The Days of The New
by Wonderfall
Summary: Short Stories and one shots about the war, love, and truth based off poems done by a wonderful friend of mine. Ratings range. Genres range.


**Disclaimer: Most of everything belongs to JK Rowling. Grats to her. BUT :pause for dramatic effect: The poems in which these short stories are based off belong to a good friend of mine who was effected greatly by the beginning of school this year. Many things were happening, as many could also say " ALL THIS STRESS..." was a frequently used saying.**

_I walk slowly down that hill_

Seven years of my precious life gone. Wasted for the good of all humanity. But it didn't matter now. No, not anymore. I remember when it did though. When I would stare at the twinkling stars waiting, wondering when everything that everyone feared would be gone. Waiting, wondering when life would be, normal, in a sense. Waiting, wondering what would end this war we've dedicated our lifes to. When it finally did end no one knew what to do. It wasn't like we could just pick up from where we left off. Even though this war was "over" it wasn't really. We had a long way to go.

_The one road that will lead me to my destination._

We worked with Ministries everywhere. We had to rebuild many things we carelessly sacrificed before. Homes of many, businesses of plenty, and most of all, lifes. Many had been taken during the war. Gone forever. But the loved ones had nothing left. What were they to do? Three years. Gone just for them.

_The smell of grass cuts through the air_

But just when we thought we were done with it all. Almost completly free from the memories that haunted our dreams, the horrible sounds we could still hear, the endless lists and information of people we would never see again we were shot back to square one. Again. Back at the beginning. And it started all over again.

_And speeding blurs of many colors rush pass._

Death Eaters thought to have passed on were right there. Like lightning we were blinded. Blurred forever as they tore down what we were rebuilding; we watched as seconds, minutes and hours were stolen away from our lifes again. Because we cared. But like the fairy tales of our childhood always said, " Good will always win." We striked back. And we won. Again. And we began rebuilding. Again. But we were smarter this time. Every known Death Eater was hunted down like dogs. We put them to death. And we hoped.

_The wind howls in my ear_

So many people were gone now. So many people whom I loved were gone. I would never see their faces again. Nothing would ever be the same. It might have been believed that with Voldermort gone, everything would be better. But how could it? With so many gone, how could life ever be better?

_And through my hair_

And five years after the beginning of the war, many who were bruised and battered from battles and battles were finally making their ways home, and many who were just as bruised and battered were still going, making everything "right".

_As I see in the distance my home_

Missing people became founded people. Funerals planned, people buried, mourning commensed. Memories of happy and glum times were spreading like wild fire. Even though Voldermort was gone, things seemed just as bad. Maybe I was just going crazy. Six months of torture could do that to a girl.

_With brick covering the front walls_

Then it was time for the people like me to begin rebuilding their _own _lives. But it was hard, quiet hard. Knowing that one of your best friends was dead. Your parents, along with every other muggle was dead. Your childhood memories were dead. It was difficult.

_As my hand caresses over the cold, black iron railing_

But I had to try, right? No one could break us down again. We set rules. We set limitations. We were overly cautious. But it was "right" wasn't it? We couldn't stop, we wouldn't stop. The world was going to be a better place once and for all.

_I reach the door and place my hand on the golden doorknob._

I'd come this far and I had one destination in my mind and it wasn't that far away. So close. So close. So I kept on going. Working to make everything "right". And I did. And I helped. And I slaved. And wore my body out several times. But I kept on walking. So close. So close.

_It turns, the door opens, and I enter the house_

And as we wanted, needed, whatever, the world was better. The skies turned blue again. The birds sang the best of their songs. People were greatful for their lifes. The government wasn't corrupted. People were happy and generous. We laughed. We loved. We rejoiced. No more name-calling. Maybe I would still hear the hatful words of " You stupid MudBlood" drifting through my mind at night, but I was free enough. Because the war and it's lasting effects were over.

_That I call home. _


End file.
